Post-Life Crisis
by AdAbolendam
Summary: "You think you're the only one who had regrets when you died?" Death has a way of making you reassess your life choices. What happens after that is what really matters.


**Content:** In which May and Coulson have a difficult conversation about the choices they have made and what they regret.

* * *

"You okay?"

Phil Coulson scoffed and downed the last swallow of scotch from his glass. A half-empty bottle sat on the table in front of him just out of reach. He stared it down for several long seconds before conceding defeat and moved to pour himself another round. May's hand intercepted the bottle and she poured one for him and a double for herself.

Coulson raised his glass in a silent gesture of thanks.

"I take it Daisy left then?" May tried again.

Coulson nodded slowly, staring at the thick, translucent rings of liquid that appeared on the glass as he swirled the drink in his hand.

"You never could make her do anything she didn't want to do," she said. "Growing up like that, in the system, being moved from home to home, she doesn't understand what it's like to have people that care about her unconditionally."

"She said it hurt," Coulson spoke up.

"What hurt?"

"She told me that being around us, knowing that we loved her when she had done nothing to deserve it, when we had every reason to hate her, she said it hurt her physically," he explained. "She said she couldn't look at us without hurting."

May frowned and took a sip of scotch.

"I understand that," she admitted.

Coulson raised his eyebrows.

"There haven't been a whole lot of people in my life that have wanted to stick around when I pushed them away," May said. "When you hurt someone like that and they keep coming back… that kind of loyalty hurts more than hate sometimes."

He didn't answer and May did not push. One of the great benefits of knowing when to shut up was that people tended to tell you more when you don't ask. She could tell by the way his brow had wrinkled into a knot that he was holding something back.

"She told me that I was a middle-aged man with a Messianic Complex who needed broken people to rely on me so that I could feel like I mattered," Coulson recited sardonically. "She said she was sorry for me, but it wasn't her job to make me feel like a whole person."

"Bullshit," May spat. "You know she only said that to push you away. She knows you won't give up on her. She's trying to give you a reason to."

Coulson shook his head and took another swallow.

"Maybe," he admitted. "But she's not wrong."

The table shook as May banged her glass down.

"Don't do that," she growled. "Daisy is smart. She knows exactly what buttons to press. Don't let her get to you just because she is hurting."

"She didn't tell me anything I didn't already know," Coulson said softly.

"You don't need anyone to make you feel necessary and we are not broken!" May argued.

"You all aren't," he agreed. "But I was."

May sighed and leaned back into the soft leather of the chair with arms folded. She shouldn't have let him have that last drink. Coulson always became hopelessly maudlin three drinks in. She had told herself it wasn't really him, it was just the depressive effects of the alcohol. In recent years though, she had begun to wonder if the scotch dissolved that calm veneer and revealed all of the pain he kept locked away beneath the surface.

"You know the first thing I remember thinking when I came back?"

"Something about a magical place?" May quipped.

"The first _real_ thing I remember," Coulson corrected. "I thought that the most important thing I had done with my entire life was die at the right moment."

"Phil…"

"Think about it, May. I died, the Avengers took issue with that, they rallied together and saved New York, maybe the world," he said. "And yes, I know I was good at my job, but I didn't do anything that couldn't have been taken over by another guy in a suit. I didn't have anyone waiting for me at home. Audrey and I hadn't even talked in weeks. I didn't have…"

"A family," May concluded.

Coulson nodded.

"So Daisy thinks you decided to make one with all of us, so when you died again, you wouldn't have any regrets," she said.

"Didn't I?" Coulson asked, rhetorically.

"So what?" May asked.

"So what?" Coulson repeated, incredulous. "So she's right! It's pathetic and unrealistic! How the hell could I have expected that would work? Lincoln said it: We're screwed up. You don't order someone you love like a daughter to kill for you! You don't put your family in harm's way on a daily basis! You protect them. You want them away from all of the evil, sadistic shit we see out there in the world.

"I was selfish. I was fucked up and I dragged everyone else down with me," he said.

"You saved us!" May retorted. "You dragged Daisy out of that van and gave her the only family that ever gave a damn about her. God knows what would have happened to Fitz and Simmons if they were still in Sci-Ops when Hydra took over. You gave me my life back! You think you're the only one who had regrets when you died?"

May took a deep breath and steadied herself. She could tell she had piqued his curiosity. For the first time since she had walked in, she had his full attention.

 _Damnit._

"What did you regret May?"

She studied the woodgrain of the polished table, choosing her words carefully.

"We all made the same choices when we joined SHIELD, Phil. I thought I could make it work with Andrew, but being an agent and having a normal life doesn't work. I've figured that out and I made my choice. But when I died, part of me still wondered what my life could have been if I had made other decisions."

May could not hear anything but her own pulse ringing in her ears. She was pretty sure both of them had stopped breathing. From his studious frown, she could tell the alcohol-saturated neurons in Coulson's brain were slowly connecting the dots.

"So that's what you saw when you died," he realized. "When you said you saw me, you saw our family."

May could only bring her eyes up as far as his chest when she nodded.

The image that had haunted her for weeks swam into focus again: A boy with black hair and blue eyes helping Phil work on Lola in the garage. A girl that looked not unlike Daisy kissing her on the cheek as she ran out the door to meet her friends. Jobs that ran nine to five and didn't come with a life insurance policy that paid triple for "case-related misadventure." The knowledge that, at the end of the day, he'd be there beside her, holding her as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

She blinked and it was gone.

This was reality.

Drawing him into her fantasy would not help them do their job or make their lives any easier. It was too late for all that. She had made her choices and she would live with them.

"May-

"We have enough regrets in this life, Phil," she said. "But what you have built here, with SHIELD, with Daisy, with all of us… Don't let that be one of yours."

Coulson set his glass down and shook his head to clear it.

"You don't think it was all some sort of self-indulgent post-life crisis?" He asked.

"Maybe," May said, standing up. "But it's also the most important thing you've ever done."

She moved around the table to make her exit, afraid of what she might do or say if she lingered any longer. Warm skin brushed against hers as Coulson reached for her hand. She closed her eyes, unable to watch him bring their entwined fingers to his lips. He squeezed her hand gently and released her.

"Thank you, Melinda."

Forcing herself meet his candid stare, May managed a small smile before leaving the room.

She let out a long breath as the door closed behind her.

It was true what she said.

They both had enough regrets in this life. But it was becoming more difficult to live with some than others.

* * *

 **A/N:** For the record, I don't actually hate Daisy any I really don't _want_ her to say anything like this to Coulson or any members of the team, but after May had that talk with her about how Coulson won't ever give up on her, I had the idea that if she was serious about wanting to be left alone, she might say something hurtful to give him a reason to stop chasing her.


End file.
